


The Funeral of Castiel and Kelly Kline

by EnochianWhisperer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-03-24 00:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnochianWhisperer/pseuds/EnochianWhisperer
Summary: Jack pays his respects to the parents he never got to met.





	The Funeral of Castiel and Kelly Kline

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a slight rewrite (or addition) to the double-pyre scene at the end of 13x01 "Lost and Found."

The son of Kelly Kline stood abreast with the Winchester brothers while the vessel of Castiel and the body of his mother endured gradual incineration. Although his expression was stoic, pinches of pain riddled every fiber of his abominable being. The three of them stood silent, watching the flames chew up the clothes and flesh of the corpses. Jack hadn’t been on the earth for a day and he was laying both of his parents to rest. Kelly, he knew, was an inevitable loss, and though he was more ready to accept the fact, he didn’t love her any less. Castiel, on the other hand…  
  
Well, his _real, biological_ father was entirely to blame for that.  
  
Jack made up his mind very quickly that he didn’t want to have any further associations with the Devil. In fact, the seedlings of a revenge scheme _were_ skirting around the edges of his mind…  
  
But first, he had to give his thanks and say goodbye. Per the guidance of Sam Winchester, Jack fumbled to find words in his head. His lack of graceful articulation frustrated him and the eulogy he created fell drastically short for the magnitude of the occasion. The world was bidding farewell to a legendary angel, and an ordinary human.  
  
Jack didn’t know exactly who Sam and Dean were. In one respect, it was a fortunate thing not to know the Winchesters. In another, it was dangerous. He gathered that the boys were close friends of Castiel, though, and it seemed that they were trustworthy enough. Even though Dean did take a shot at him. But Dean was just scared, like he was. And anyway, it didn’t seem as though Dean could really hurt him, certainly not for lack of trying. Jack had begun to arrive at an understanding that he was actually a lot safer than the majority of human beings in their average, day-to-day lives. He knew he was powerful, but he had yet to know just how far his reach extended.  
  
Still, this didn’t completely ease the fear that continued to lurk. For the time being, he assumed that keeping Sam and Dean Winchester company was the smartest course of action. They certainly knew a lot more about the world and life than he did.  
  
They also seemed to know a lot more about death.  
  
The company of three stood vigilant before the pyre for well over three hours. Dusk fell into night and the flames raged against the dying of the light. The Winchesters could spare all the time in the world for Castiel. Their brother-in-arms deserved the finest salutations, and so much more. It pained them to know that he wouldn’t receive any prestigious honors in Heaven. In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised them if Heaven was celebrating the final fall of the once-great Castiel at that very moment. Jack was oblivious to all of this; he had no concept of Heaven’s politics. All that he understood was that the angels wanted him. He also understood that they were fickle creatures, ready to turn the dagger at a moment’s notice—quite literally.  
  
Dumbly, Jack finally made an utterance.  
  
“...I’m sorry, Father, that you died. I wanted to meet you very much. I wanted to know you. I hope that you are somewhere happy.” Then, to Kelly: “I’m sorry, Mother, that I killed you. I know you were a beautiful person, inside and out. I’m happy that you are somewhere hopeful.”  
  
It surprised Sam to feel something powerful from the simplicity of Jack’s utterance. It was awkward, but somehow, he felt that finer words couldn’t have been spoken. Dean felt differently, but he didn’t have the will to speak. He let the words waft over the fire and disperse into the starry night with the smoke.


End file.
